As child I looked forward to birthdays. What’s not to like? Lots of food of the type normally forbidden, lots of people not normally seen. If the birthday was mine, lots of new books to read. Lots of attention, and lots of mess. I didn’t have to clean up the mess. Somewhere along the way the appeal of celebrations of this nature started to fade. As an adult you get to eat whatever you like whenever you like, you see friends and family when it suits and you discover libraries. You get to clean up your own mess and realise it can be a difficult, stressful, protracted business. While I’d participate in other people’s milestone marking, marking my own milestones just didn’t seem important. Yeah I’m a year older, no big upside, no big deal.
The setting sun washes the Forbes Range in a pink rinse. From my vantage point just outside the red corrugated iron walls of Esquliant Bivvy the twin peaks of Earnslaw/Pikirakatahi and O’Leary have also acquired a rosy tinge. My eyes are drawn to the dark colossus known as Pluto Peak which dominates the foreground. On a mild, still summer evening it’s easy to forget how inhospitable mountains can be.
Mitre Peak is a drama queen. Everything about her shouts “look at me”. She is permanently posed for a close up, rising straight up out of a fiord like a lochness monster. On a rare clear sunny day she is riveting. In more typical pluvial Fiordland conditions she’s inscrutable inviting observers to engage their imagination to fill the gaps. You may catch glimpses of her through tendrils of mist, her head may emerge above the clouds, or her feet may be revealed but not her top.
The hardest thing about the Kepler is getting in.
Race entries open at 6.30am NZT on the first Saturday in July. The event takes place the first Saturday in December. You need to be an early riser, have access to a good browser and be in possession of superior typing skills. Even then, you stand a good chance of receiving a cheerful email from the Kepler Team informing you that you are on the waitlist. The event sells out in a few minutes. Continue reading “The Kepler – the gift that keeps on giving”
Back in November 2014 I ran the Aorangi Undulator, a choice local event in the Aorangi Forest Park on the outskirts of Wellington.
I enjoyed it so much I resolved to return in 2015 for the three-day version. The A100 is run by the same group of trail running enthusiasts who organise the Undulator. The 2014 attrition rate seemed high and the survivors appeared to pick up more than their fair share of injuries. The uncertain nature of the challenge appealed to my sense of adventure. I thought it would be a good test of my endurance and organisational skills and a great way to support an innovative local event while contributing to conservation in the Aorangi Forest Park. The fact that many of my fellow entrants were mates helped. I wouldn’t be doing a strange thing surrounded by strangers.
Tramping is nowhere near as addictive as smoking, drinking or pizza. It would be easy to give up. It’s time consuming, hard work, uncomfortable and lacks glamour. There is no instant gratification and no showers. You have to invest in specialist gear which you’ll only use if something bad happens. You have to put up with crap weather, other people’s idiosyncrasies and, even worse, your own. The food is pretty average. I go tramping when I have failed to make other plans. Continue reading “Gem Tour”
I’m sure many runners have dreamed of linking Wellington’s extensive network of ridgelines together into a single trail circumnavigating the urban fringes to showcase everything the city has to offer in terms of views, flora, fauna, geography and historical sites.